Haunted
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: Life doesn't stop. There's no reset switch to flip when something goes wrong. We can't go back and bring back the dead, no matter how much we want to. And when an accident at GD rips one of their tight-knit family from their arms, Carter and Zane take it upon themselves to put the puzzle back together, in hopes of seeing the whole, haunting picture. With a little help, of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Haunted**

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: Life doesn't stop. There's no reset switch to flip when something goes wrong. We can't go back and bring back the dead, no matter how much we want to. And when an accident at GD rips one of their tight-knit family from their arms, Carter and Zane take it upon themselves to put the puzzle back together, in hopes of seeing the whole, haunting picture. With a little help, of course.**

There's a moment, when everything stops.

When it slows down. When it moves frame by frame, and the sound cuts out.

Suddenly, you're watching a silent film, trying desperately to figure out what the actors are saying, messing with the remote, attempting to bring the sound back. The frames slow, panning across a mirage of faces you've known for years- colleagues, lovers, family... friends.

Until it comes to the one person the film had been focused on the entire time.

The picture freezes.

She's forever still, the dimples in her cheeks prominent as she smiles at you, her nose wrinkling in that familiar way when she's truly happy. Her shoulders relax and she lets her mask fall, allowing you to see the person hiding behind. Her eyes light with excitement, and then, as she stares at you, you begin to realize that her dark eyes are staring into your soul.

Suddenly, the footage ends, and the image goes black, stealing her from your life, leaving only the residual energy and memories that soon go foggy with time, taunting you to remember her scent, her smile, the sound of her laugh. You're left with nothing but memories of a life- a flame, as bright as a wildfire- snuffed out too soon, and far too violently.

Forever.

* * *

"_Don't_ make me shoot you, Dr. Hansen. That's the _last_ thing I want to do!"

I watched, saw her take one cautious step and then another towards the man. Dr. James Hansen- once brilliant chemical phsycist, now psychotic madman- held something out, aiming it at her. I took a deep breath; she'd told me to stay back, and let her and her team take care of the problem, and so I stood, out in the hall, watching through the open door as Jo and her team advanced. My attention was taken away from the situation at hand, for whatever reason, and- some would say, luckily- I was spared.

I can honestly say, I'd never been more proud of her than in the moments that followed.

From what her colleagues told us, when Hansen started up his machine- whatever the machine _was_, no one's quite clear on it- Jo realized the danger, and ordered her team out. They followed her orders, except for Hertz, Blythe and Rowley, but that's typical. They're Jo's best friends.

Childhood friends. Military brats. Pre-teen delinquents. The only four female members of a _nearly_ all male security team.

And Jo was its Head. She was the Chief.

From what the girls said- all shaking and attempting to get the smoke off their faces- Jo had rushed towards Hansen, attempting to subdue him. Rowley said she'd lowered her weapon.

That was her first mistake.

Hertz said she'd shoved him to the ground, pinning him to the floor as she tried to reach whatever he held, leaving her weapon free. He'd shoved her off him and grabbed it.

That was her second mistake.

Blythe said she'd ordered them out before attempting to grab her gun back, _and_ reach for the device.

That was her third mistake.

He shot her.

Detonated the device, grabbed Jo, and shoved her against the wall, placing whatever he'd built between their bodies. Five seconds later, the lab exploded, sending debris everywhere and throwing us all backward. When we reached the doorway...

Everything in the lab had been flattened, left smouldering or smoking. An imprint on the far wall was the only indication that Jo and Dr. Hansen had even been in the room. Their outlines were fairly visible- shadows, descendants of those from Hiroshima.

Even wounded, Jo could take on the toughest men, but...

Not this time.

She'd never had a chance.

* * *

My first glimpse of the chaos that had taken place down in Section Five, was the sight of Dr. Blake rolling people out on stretchers. The second was of the dirt and smoke filling the room. The third, Blythe, Hertz and Rowley huddled together, clothes stained black and eyes filled to the brim with tears.

I felt my heart clench in fear as I slowly turned from them, making my way to what was left of the lab.

And there sat Carter, head in his hands, watching as people milled around him. The man appeared to either be in shock or catatonic, and it took me several minutes to get his attention.

"Oh, hi Zane."

"What the hell happened?" Something felt off. Carter didn't respond, instead, he gestured to the mess in front of him. I scanned it quickly, before pulling out my cell. "Where's Jo?" He didn't reply. When I tried her cell, it didn't even ring.

Something wasn't off, something was plain wrong.

_"Carter! What happened!"_ I went to the older man, grabbing the front of his uniform and hauling him to his feet._ "Damn it, Carter! Say something! Where's Jo? She should be down here! The rest of her team's here, why isn't she? Answer me!"_ He gestured vaguely, and I pulled away. "What?" He'd spoken so softly, I hadn't heard him.

"Jo's... there..." I stared at him for a moment, before turning to look in the lab. My eyes scanned everything, before landing on two... shadows? that outlined the far wall. I turned back to him.

"No. You're kidding. This is some kind of cruel joke!"

"She's dead, Zane. He... pushed her up against the wall, stuck whatever he was holding between them and... blew them both up."

I pulled away from the Sheriff, moving away. I didn't remember grabbing the wall or sliding to the floor. The only thing I remembered, was the screaming her name.


	2. Chapter 2

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

"None of this makes sense."

I looked up at Zane; he sat at Jo's desk, going through the paperwork and evidence that was gathered at the scene. My eyes lingered on the sight of the younger man seated in Jo's chair. I was so used to seeing _Jo_ in that chair, sitting back with a cup of coffee in her hands, or lounging with her feet up on her desk, that it momentarily shocked me.

"And it won't for a long time, Zane." I replied, returning to the papers in front of me.

"What was she even doing in that lab in the first place?" He asked, his voice thick with tears. I looked up, seeing the tears brimming his eyes, and opened my mouth to speak, but the doors opened and Allison entered, Henry, Grace, Holly, Fargo and Jo's three friends in tow.

"Zane? What are you doing here?" Hertz asked, stopping in her tracks. He looked up, but didn't say anything.

"We're... going through the evidence." I told them, and the brunette nodded. She sighed, going to the file cabinet and running her fingers along the top.

The whole office was decked out in blacks and muted tones of greys and white. Jo had often joked that- since she was the Security Chief- it was her duty to apear cold and distant. Yet cold and distant, Jo was anything but. She was soft-spoken, critical, and fiercely loyal and protective to those she loved. And when you truly got to know her, she was warm, funny- bubbily even- and had a smile that lit up the room.

Her flame- that small part of her that had seen her through everything challenging in her life- had burned too bright for too long. It had hardened her against everyone that didn't fit into her perfect little box, and it took me years to even get her to let me in. The one person that had seemed to begin to crack her walls though, was Zane- our Zane. He'd bugged her, teased her, taunted her and done all he could to get her to notice him, to the point where she'd finally cracked and let him in.

He was the temper to her passion, the chaos to her order, the water to her fire. He'd protected her, calmed her, taken care of her and loved her- even going so far as to ask her to marry him, to which she'd hesitated. That one simple mistake had cost her dearly. Our Zane had been the stones to the river, slowing her sometimes too frantic course and forcing her to take it slow. She'd grown up with three older brothers, followed in their footsteps, found herself in a platoon of mainly males, and had been forced to follow their example, abandoning her feminine wiles and girly desires. She'd given up dance after her mother died; since returning from her tour and becoming a member of Eureka, her flame had taken over, guarding her from everyone- threat or no.

Until Zane showed up.

Suddenly, I saw changes in my Jo. She loosened up, appeared softer, spoke quieter. She gave thought to her actions and actions to her thoughts. She wore something other than her uniforms; she let her hair down- literally. She smiled more, becoming more of a fairy and less of a banshee. But she never lost that flame.

She was a spitfire. One that Zane refused to control, but helped contain. He fed her flame, tending it and carrying for it, until she'd become exactly who we all knew she could be. A candle flame, soft and pliable, but bright and strong at the same time. And when we came to this new Eureka after our little trip, the four of us had rallied around her, protecting her weakened flame as best we could, when she discovered that this Zane wasn't hers, when he broke her heart.

We'd done all we could to protect her, looked out for her, let her grab ahold of us when she lost her balance, or fall into our arms when she couldn't stand any more. We had become her confidantes, her family. We'd kept her afloat in the chaos that was her life since coming to this new time. Looked out for her, stayed by her side, guarded her against the ice that threatened on the horizon.

But we couldn't protect her from the ice that grew within. From the flood gates that had been too slow to close. From the gash no one had seen, that had let disaster in. Like the Titanic, one hundred years prior, she was a ship left in the middle of the ocean, calling for help, but unable to be saved.

We tried, we really did.

On more than one occasion, we'd pull her back from the bridge, get her into a lifeboat, only to have something happen, sending her clambering back onto the sinking cruise liner that was her life. She'd clung for dear life to the railing, dangling from the cold metal, hundreds of feet from the water below, as the ship stood on end before slowly beginning to sink below the surface. She'd struggled to hold on, but her grip had weakened, and she'd tumbled to her death, hitting the icy water with a scream, before the ship completely submerged. We'd go back for her, bringing blankets, water, food, anything that we could that would keep her safe from the elements, but every time we'd try to pull her into the lifeboat, she'd swim away, fearful of safety. Preferring to drown in her misery.

And then this Zane had started pursuing her with undue force- after she'd thrown his engagement ring back at him, instead of his hallucination- he'd begun to put the pieces together, eventually discovering what they'd been, and how it'd affected her. Suddenly, Zane was the one to pull her from the water, the one to wrap the blanket around her and push the crackers into her hands, hold the flask to her lips and tip her head back to let the alcohol warm her freezing body. He was the one who'd reached her in time to save her, though she would always live with the horrific memories of that experience.

He was the one to pull her into his arms at night and soothe her fears, erase her nightmares. He was the one to get her back on a boat, get her to finish her journey...

He was- once again- the one to tend and care for her flame, contain it and help it grow.

From what we could tell, they'd been sneaking around- Jo hated that term, it reminded her of the suicide bombers that would sneak into the compound in Afghanistan at night- for weeks, sharing intimate nights at SARAH- after Zane blew up her house for the second time (the first time, it was that idiot Larry's rocket)- or spending long, passionate evenings at his place. She'd mentioned to me briefly that they'd made love in front of the fireplace in his apartment, and when she'd mentioned that everyone was trying to control her, he'd told her that he didn't want to control her, he only wanted to care for her. And slowly, over time, our Jo was back, smiling and laughing, and watching over everyone in that soft spoken, protective way of hers.

The last image I have of her in my mind is of that morning, as our little group sat in Cafe Diem, enjoying breakfast. Tucked into Zane's side, her head resting on his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to her head, burying his nose into her hair. She'd worn it down before putting it back in her customary ponytail. He'd whispered something to her, and she'd looked up at him, raising an eyebrow before replying. Then, she'd pressed her lips to his, smiling against his mouth in that way she had. I've watched her kiss Zane enough to know her little quirks and habits.

She'd pulled her hair over her shoulder, listening as he talked, and a moment had passed, before she sat up, leaned into him, and pressed her mouth fully to his. Normally, Jo would have been against displays of affection, but for some reason, she was all for it this morning. Maybe she just wanted to break convention for once. Or maybe she knew what would happen- or that_ something_ would happen. Either way, she threw convention to the wind and let herself rebel a little. When she pulled away, she was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes lit with happiness, her attention locked on Zane. I'd like to think that the final hours of her short life had been happy, that her last thought had been of us- all of us, Zoe, Jenna, Allison, Fargo, Henry, Grace, Holly, Zane, me- that her girls had been somewhere in her thoughts, memories of a childhood no one but them knew of. That her mind had passed over Zane, and that she'd silently told him that her answer would have been yes, if they ever got to that point.

I choose to think of her happy, with that gorgeous smile, instead of...

"So, what happens now?" I looked up, being yanked from my thoughts. Fargo swallowed.

"Well, when... the Head of Security is... unavailable or..." He licked his lips. "Then the second in command takes over as Head of Security." I turned, to see Rowley pale, her red hair flush against her ashen skin. She shook her head, eyes wide with tears.

"No. No! I... I can't... Josie... I can't take her place... I'm not cut out for... I just... can't... please, Fargo, _please don't make me_..."

"Gwenie... you'd don't have a choice." Hertz said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Blythe settled into her other side, pressing her forehead against Rowley's, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. The redhead shook her head violently, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"No... Josie's Head of Security... she's always been... I can't take her place..."

"Josie's gone, Gwenie." Blythe whispered, burying her nose in the red curls.

"I can't... I'm not strong enough... not like Josie. Josie's the strong one... I'm not like her; I'm not her... I'm not... _I won't_..."

"Shh." The redhead broke down, and the girl's latched on, keeping her upright. "It'll be okay, Gwenie. We'll get through this. I promise." Blythe pressed a kiss to her hair, whispering softly. I glanced back at Zane; he'd buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to mondler1998 for reviewing 2.**

I slammed the door shut behind me. After listening to Fargo offer Rowely the position of Head of Security, I'd left the office. Even as she broke and crumbled to the ground, I got up, making my escape. The thought of anyone else being Head of Security except Jo makes my blood run cold. That Rowley- Irish-tempered, bitchy, hard-as-nails Rowley- broke down, practically screaming that she couldn't take Jo's place, just shows how respected Jo is around here.

And it makes it even more apparent that I didn't deserve her.

I collapsed on the sofa, my eyes instantly going to the mantle, where an image of Jo and I sat. She had her arms tight around my neck, and we were wrapped in the blankets of my bed, after a morning of passionate sex. Her head rested on my chest, her long dark hair tumbled in waves around us. Her dark eyes stare at the camera screen I held up, laughing and relaxed. I had one arm around her body, holding her too me.

It had been her idea, to take that photograph.

She'd grabbed the camera, shoving it into my hands and telling me to start snapping. There was a series of images of us in bed, playing around with the pillows, the sheets. She'd even set the camera up to take photographs as we made slow, passionate love that morning.

Yesterday.

The fact that that photograph was taken the day before, made her untimely death all that more raw.

Getting up, I fixed a cup of coffee and slowly made my way to the bedroom. As I pulled the photo album off my nightstand and took a seat on the floor near the bed, I caught sight of little reminders of my beloved Jojo.

A book she was reading. One of her heels. The dark purple satin bra I'd bought her, hanging from the door handle. I could smell her shampoo wafting in from the bathroom down the hall. I knew her suits were hanging in a corner of my closet. We'd basically started living together not long after the Astreaus incident. And since I'd been promoted to Head of Section Five- at Jo's insistance and Fargo's decision- we'd only gotten closer, deciding to move Jo into my place.

We were on the right path, finally.

Slowly, I opened the album. The photographs of the morning before stared back at me. Jo, propped up on her side, the sheets held tight to her chest, her long dark hair tumbling over her shoulder, her eyes shining. As I flipped through the album, finally coming upon the images of us making love, I felt my heart constrict in grief.

Images of us, lips meeting, hands roaming, bodies coming together. Images of me pulling her closer, running my hands down those shapely hips of her, rediscovering her gorgeous curves and hidden crevices. Images of her running her hands down my chest, digging her nails into my back; her in my lap, her legs tight around my waist as I found the sensitive curve of her neck.

But the images that got to me the most, were of as we reached our climax, coming together and reaching that point that so many people had discovered. The sight of her head thrown back, her beautiful dark hair cascading like the waterfall it was, the curve of her throat silhouetted against the light as we made love. Her dark eyes opened and meeting mine, as we drank in the sight of each others' orgasms, as we cried out for each other, shattering together, our souls tangling together as we screamed each others' names, our lips meeting in deep, passionate kisses, even as we came down from our high moments later.

The last two images in the album weren't the one on the mantle- that one was at the front of the book- but of Jo and I, wrapped in each others' arms, our lips meeting in kiss after kiss. She was in my lap, her hands running up my chest, as I tangled my fingers in her hair. Only our silhouettes, against the backdrop of light filtering through the blinds.

In one image, she pulls away briefly; our lips are barely touching, and as I gaze at the photograph, I can't help feeling as though she knew, that something would happen. That she wouldn't be here after today, and so, in some strange way, taking images of us making love was her way to...

To what?

Remind me of what we had? What we should have had tonight? A wild, passionate evening, sharing kisses and telling stories, wrapped in the blankets of our bed, her laying comfortably on my chest, her head tucked under my chin, her hand in mine, our fingers laced, where we belonged? Or were these photos some sick way for her to taunt me, to remind me of what she'd lost by coming to this new timeline? A way to make sure I suffered the same way she did?

I took a deep breath, pushed the album away, and buried my face in my hands, suddenly unable to keep my heartbreak hidden.

I'd lost the love of my life, the only woman in this psychotic town that meant everything to me. And in a matter of minutes, some insane scientist had kidnapped her, stolen her from my arms, and taken her from everyone she loved. There's a huge difference between Jo and I. When Jo came here, she lost the me she'd known, but got me back. She'd gotten a second chance.

I never will.

All I have left, are images, memories, frozen in time.


	4. Chapter 4

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to mondler1998 for reviewing 3.**

"Want something to drink?"

I looked up at the sound of Jo's voice, turning to see her come into the kitchen. Dressed in sweats and a long shirt, she had her hair pulled back in her customary ponytail, and I could see the chain around her neck that held her Zane's ring. "Jack?" But when I blinked, she was gone; vanishing on the wind.

"Sorry, Ali, what did you say?" She took a seat next to me, running a hand over my arm.

"Are you okay?" I swallowed, nodding.

"Yeah. I just... I just thought I saw Jo for a moment." She nodded, reaching out to take my hand. "It doesn't seem real. That she's gone, you know? It just... it seems like she's gone on vacation and will be back any day. I keep... expecting her to walk through that door with stories about her trip and gifts for the kids." Ali kept quiet, reaching up to brush away tears I hadn't known I'd shed. She snuggled into my side, resting her head on my shoulder.

"She told me that she and Zane were considering moving in together." Ali whispered. "They'd talked about it, and after the fiasco with Andy, that he realized how important she was to him. That seeing her in that hospital bed after being electrocuted by Andy scared him, and he never wanted to let her go."

I swallowed. "They never even got a chance."

"Who never got a chance?" We both looked up to see Kevin come down the stairs, Jenna in his arms. I glanced at Ali, who licked her lips. "What's wrong? Mom? Jack?" Just as I opened my mouth to speak, SARAH spoke up,

"Zane is at the door, Jack."

"Thanks SARAH, let him in." We all turned, to see Zane slowly enter the house, hands stuffed in his pockets, his hair a tousled mess, like he'd been sleeping on the sofa, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Jeez, Zane, what's wrong with you?" Kevin asked, setting Jenna down. It was late afternoon Friday, and Fargo had given everyone the rest of the week off in the wake of- "Someone close to you die?" The young phsycist paled, tears beginning to gather in his blue eyes, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

"Kevin!" Ali snapped. The teen turned to her.

"What?" He turned back to Zane. But the young man moved past him and took a seat at the table, putting his head in his hands.

"I can't stop thinking about her, Jack. I just..." Ali and I shared worried looks, before we went to him.

"Would you like a cup of coffee or a tea, Zane?" SARAH asked.

"Not right now, SARAH." Ali whispered. "Zane, what's wrong?" She sat down next to him, reaching out to take his hand.

"Her father and brother are flying into Eureka to take... take her..." He choked, looking up at Ali. "home. They're... they're going to bury her in... Arlington. Because they say that's where she belongs. With her brothers. And her comrades."

"They won't let us bury her here?" Ali asked. Zane shook his head. "Why not?"

"Because 'she needs to be with her family. She belongs with her family, and the majority of her family are in Arlington.'" Zane quoted.

"She belongs with us. She's as much a part of Eureka's family as she is theirs. I get that she's their daughter, but..." Ali started.

"It doesn't matter. The General and the Major are going to be down here in two hours. They're going to bury her with full honors."

"Who?" Kevin asked. "Who are they going to come get?" I glanced at Zane and Ali; neither said a word. They were leaving me to break the news to Kevin and Jenna. Taking a deep breath, I turned to them.

"Jo... was killed on Monday. There was... an incident at GD and..." I swallowed, struggling to breathe. "She went down to take care of the incident, and... was killed. The scientist in charge of the project... he killed her. Her... brother and father are coming down to... take her home." I could see the news hit the kid like a ton of bricks, watched as the myraid of emotions began to cross his face, at the sudden realization that Jo was never coming back.

Kevin shook his head.

"No. Not Jo..." Tears began to well in his eyes, and he clutched Jenna close.

"Jo. Jo!" Jenna cried, a smile on her face as she turned to watch the door, waiting for any sign of her beloved aunt to show. Everyone watched as it suddenly dawned on the child that Jo wasn't going to be walking through that door and she turned back to the group. Her cries pierced the air, and Ali went to her, taking the little girl into her arms and holding her close before wrapping an arm around Kevin.

"What do we do?" Zane asked. "We have to stop them from taking... there was nothing left... from taking what was left of her." I sighed, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know, Zane."


	5. Chapter 5

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

I took a deep breath, slowly making my way towards Jo's office. I was supposed to meet her family- along with Carter, Allison, Henry, Fargo, Rowley, Hertz and Blythe- and from there, after we signed everything over, we were just to let her go. Let them take everything that belonged to her away from us, leaving not a trace to remember her by.

I barely registered the very few in the hallways, but after I allowed the retina scanner to cross my eye, I glanced down.

Hundreds upon hundreds of flowers, letters and gifts were left at the door to her office. A hologramic cross uploaded with photographs of her- created by Tesla School- sat in the middle of the pile, a sweet tribute to the woman whom all the kids looked up to. After a moment, I pulled the ring from my pocket. It sparkled in the light of the halls, and slowly, I knelt down, placing the diamond- still on the chain she'd worn around her neck- among the dozens upon dozens of other things left as tribute or memory of the deceased Head of Security. It had never hit me until now, just how loved Jo was.

"I never pictured you as being the sentimental type, Zane."

I slowly stood and turned, to see- no, it _couldn't_ be. It just couldn't-

Jo.

"Um... Jo?" She gave me a small smile, shrugging. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and that white tank I loved so much, that ratty old dark green sweater open over it. Her long dark hair was straight and down, the way I loved it. I longed to reach out and run my fingers through it, but fought the urge, fearing that my hand would go right through her.

"About time you stopped by." I knew I was gaping like a fish, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead of waiting for my reply, she looked down at the countless flowers, cards, letters and candles, spotting the ring I'd placed among the items. She reached out, snatching it up. "Zane... why did you... this is yours. It belonged to your grandmother-"

"It was meant for you. It was always meant for you." I whispered, watching her fiddle with the chain.

"Praise the Lord, he speaks." She said, quickly crossing herself with that familiar smirk. "About time you acknowledged my presence." I sighed. It had been nearly a week- or felt like it. I wasn't sure; the days seemed to blend into one another since her death.

"It belonged to you."

She hissed softly. "See... the afterlife is kind of a... leave-your-personal-affects-at-the-door kind of place." She said, dropping it back among the flowers.

"You aren't making this-" I gestured to the flowers and gifts left at her door. "- any easier, Jojo."

I saw her sigh, shrugging her small shoulders.

"Not supposed to be... Sorry, dead girl's perogative."

"You're not supposed to be here, Jo." I whispered, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"Oh,_ right_. FTL oblitering explosion. I forgot." Jo replied, crossing her arms.

"You don't-" I started.

"You aren't welcome here." When I looked up, Jo was gone, replaced with a man who looked eerily like her.

* * *

"You aren't welcome here." I looked up to see Zane, surrounded by three younger men, all in Army fatigues. An older man stood slightly off to the side, admiring the hundreds of flowers.

"Oh God." I knew Allison and the others had seen them. "Come on." We rushed towards the five, skidding to a stop before them. The four younger men all had the same dark eyes and hair as Jo, the same cheekbones and nose that had made Jo so beautiful. I knew them instantly as the Lupo boys- Jo's beloved older brothers, the ones she so deeply loved. I knew them by the countless photographs she kept in house, on her desk at work- Ricco, the oldest; Davie, the middle, and Luca, the youngest, the one in an old bomber jacket.

"What's going on?" Henry asked, as we all caught our breath.

"You have no right to be here." Davie said.

"I have every right to be here. She was my girlfriend!" Zane cried.

"And our little sister!" Ricco snapped. "And you killed her! We lost the most important thing in our lives!" After a moment, Zane looked up at them, tears glistening in his eyes as he struggled to remain calm.

"I'm tired of pretending that I didn't lose something to. That you were the only ones that lost someone you loved. She was my girlfriend! My best friend! I love her!" Zane said, his voice deadly calm.

"Let me ask you something, Zane." Luca said, taking a step towards the young physcist. "What was my sister doing that evening? What were her final words?"

Zane looked up at him, anger in his bue eyes. "I don't know. I wasn't down in Section Five when the explosion went off!" Zane snapped.

"All right, let's-"

"Who are you?" I found myself staring into Jo's eyes. Luca turned to me, looking me up and down like I was some enemy walking into his territory.

"Sheriff Jack Carter." I started.

"You must be the Carter Josie was always talking about." Ricco said. I nodded.

"Yeah. Now, how about we all head upstairs to Fargo's office and take care of the paperwork there? Okay?" It took some convincing, but eventually, we were able to get the four Lupo men to follow Fargo and Allison. The others fell into step behind them, leaving Zane and I alone.

"You're not here. You're just a... a hallucination-" I turned my attention to Zane, who stood slightly off to the side, talking to someone who looked a lot like...

"Jo?" She looked up at me, smiling softly.

"You're just a ghost."

She sighed, hands on her hips. "For the_ last time_; I'm_ not_ a ghost, Zane. I'm a manifestation of your guilt." She met my eyes, and I kept telling myself that she wasn't real- "Hey Carter. Um... could you... try and talk some sense into Zane? I'm getting real tired of explaining myself."


	6. Chapter 6

**R****ifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Thanks to ZaneDonovan for reviewing 1 and mondler1998 for reviewing 5.**

I turned from Jo to Zane and back. This wasn't making any sense. She... she was here... in front of me...

"But... but you're dead... I... I saw the... the shadow... and... and your older brothers..."

"Yeah, you and Zane can see them because I _want_ you to see them, Carter." I felt myself pale. Jo folded her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to talk to Zane or not?"

I collapsed back against the wall. This wasn't making any sense. Jo and... and her older brothers... all... they were all dead, except for Luca... yet... yet Zane and I could _see_ them... but... if we could see, then could we touch? Could we feel? Could I hug her, feel her in my arms, smell her hair, taste her skin as I kissed her cheek? Could I?

It took me several minutes to gather and form thoughts in my head, time I spent watching her take a seat on the floor and look through the pile of trinkets and letters left in remembrance of her. She chuckled softly at something someone had written, before picking up a teddy bear and examining it. Her gaze moved to the small book of recipes left by Vincent, and she picked it up, thumbing through it. "Seriously, Vincent? Only you."

She wore a sweater, a dark green, ratty sweater over a tank top and a pair of jeans. I could see the soles of her sneakers, and found myself admiring the shine of her pin-straight hair. I felt my eyes begin to tear up; to see her again- even as a figment of my imagination- was better than just looking at photographs. "It's really you?" I choked out.

"Zane, I thought I asked you to explain to Carter that I'm not a ghost; I'm a manifestation of the guilt you both are feeling about my death." I glanced at the younger man, he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, hands in his pockets.

"I... Jo... they can't take you away. They can't. Pack up all your things and take you back to Jersey... you belong here. You're life is here, your family, your friends-"

"I have no life anymore, Zane." She replied, unfolding a letter that had been left at her memorial. "Dr. Hansen took that away, remember?" I turned my attention to her lover. He shook his head, tears sliding down his cheeks. I'd never seen Zane lose control like this. And in that restrospect, they were a perfect pair. Both kept their feelings under wraps, both loved with their whole hearts. He crumpled, hitting the floor as though his legs were made of nothing more than paper, and a moment passed, before he moved towards her.

"They can't take you away like this. They can't-" I watched Jo slowly, mechanically, turn her head to look at him. Without having to see her face, I knew that she was staring at him with wide, dark eyes, a look that screamed,_ They can and they will, no matter what you or anyone else says_.

"Zane, it's not your choice. All you need to do, is put the pieces together, and say goodbye."

"Pieces? What are you talking about?" He asked. I swallowed, unable to tell him. Jo did it for me.

"You enjoy puzzles. My death- however short it cut my life- is a puzzle. I'm looking to you and Carter to figure it out." She returned to reading some of the letters.

"But... don't you remember what happened?" He asked. She didn't look up, and I saw her swallow.

"No. It's a blank. One minute I'm... ordering my team out of the room, and the next..." She licked her lips, turning to look at me. "I don't remember." I nodded.

"We'll help you, Jo. I promise." Seeing her smile again pulled at my heart.

"Thank you, Carter."

* * *

She turned to look at me, that familiar smile tugging at my heart. I couldn't understand how she could be so calm about being dead. She was dead, and she just expected us to move on without her. I tried to smile back. "So... how do we... put the puzzle pieces together?" I asked, sipping my coffee.

We sat on the sofa in my apartment; Jo was sitting next to me, head propped on her fist, against the back of my sofa, watching me. Carter sat on one of the chairs, watching us. I glanced towards Jo, she was smiling, and after a moment, reached out, running her fingers over the buttons of my shirt. "I love that blue on you, Zane. It makes your eyes pop." I glanced to Carter, who sighed, placing his elbows on his knees.

"Jo," She turned to him. I took the oppertunity to get up and moved to the other chair. We'd stopped at Cafe Diem, after telling Fargo that I'd be cutting out early- I don't think he even heard me, and if he didn't, he didn't care. She waited, and after a moment, he swallowed. "How are we going to help you figure out what happened?"

She scoffed gently. "You're the sheriff, Carter. You were a U.S. Marshal before you became the sheriff. You figure it out." She replied, pulling her sweater tight around her small body. He sighed.

"Are you sure you don't remember anything, Jo?"

"I already told you, Carter. Everything that happened, from the time I ordered my team out of Dr. Hansen's lab to... now is a blank. I don't remember anything." I looked up to see Carter staring at me. He looked just as torn as I felt, and I swallowed, struggling to keep my emotions from getting the better of me. I took a deep breath, before turning to the love of my life.

"Jojo," She turned her dark gaze to me, and I licked my lips. "Y... you're blocking out the _most significant hours_ of_ your life_. _Why_ do you think that is?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

**A/N: Yes, this will have flashbacks.**

**Thanks to ZaneDonovan for reviewing 6.**

She sighed. "I don't know, Zane." Her dark eyes flicked towards the cup on the table, and after a moment, she reached out. Zane's eyes widened, saucers of blue shock, as she took a sip of his Vincespresso; I knew that mine were just as wide, just as shocked. "If I knew, I'd tell you, trust me." She muttered, her soft lips covering the rim of the cup. A moment passed, before I managed to choke out,

"Jo, you... you can..." She looked up, confused. I knew I must have been gesturing like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. To see her... that she was actually... She glanced down at the cup, then looked up at both of us. A smirk tugged at her lips.

"Carter, Zane, wipe those Looney Tunes looks off your faces. I'm a manifestation of your guys's guilt, not a ghost. I can't walk through walls, I can't make things levitate, I don't haunt anything-"

"Except us."

Zane had spoken so softly I hadn't heard him, yet Jo turned to him; her dark eyes wide and surprised. Her mouth dropped slightly, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she struggled to think of what to say. Zane, for his part, shifted as she reached out to lay a hand against his thigh. Obviously, the feel of his deceased girlfriend laying a hand on him wasn't a sensation he was used to.

"You don't remember anything from that night, Jo?" Zane asked. She sighed, getting up.

"I already told you both that! Everything before and afer I ordered my team out of the room is blank! It... it's a completely blank slate! It's almost like... like the explosion wiped my memory clean... I... I... We... we need to retrace my steps. If... if we retrace my steps, we can figure out what happened." She paced back and forth, waving her hands around in that familiar Italian way that I'd loved watching in the sheriff's office back before the time shift. "If... if we try to piece together what happened that day, then... then we can find out the truth!" She turned to Zane, eyes alight. He licked his lips.

"Um... Jo... that's great... but... where do we start?" He asked, casting me a glance. Jo followed his gaze, and the two waited. I sat back.

Why were they looking at me again? They're the geniuses; I'm just the dumb old sheriff. I don't solve the problems, they do. But right now, apparently, they were looking for guidance. So I took a deep breath, and gave it my best shot. "Um... we could try starting at the beginning."

**he**

* * *

She nodded, crossing her arms. "Start at the beginning. Great. From where?" She collapsed back on the sofa, turning to look at me. I shrugged.

"From the beginning." Carter said, causing us both to turn to him. He sat back, taking a sip of his coffee. The man was studying us, I knew he was. For all his every man logic, he sure was intuitive. "Or... at least... the beginning of that day. Start at the top and work your way down, Jo." He said, rubbing his hands together. She nodded, glancing around my apartment. A moment passed, before she got up.

"Okay." She looked around. "Well, I... I guess, to start that morning, would mean starting the night before." She caught sight of the photograph on the mantle, and I could sense the smile breaking out on her face, even before she turned to me. "Zane and I had a late dinner at Cafe Diem and came back here." She took a deep breath, slowly breathing out. "And... we..."

_She grabbed the front of my shirt, pushing me onto the sofa before climbing into my lap. I wrapped my arms tight around her waist, as one hand reached up to tangle in the curls of her hair_. _She nudged my lips open, reaching up to grasp at strands of my hair as she pressed against me. _

_"Maybe we should continue this in the bedroom, where it's more comfortable." She pulled away, staring into my eyes, her lips slightly swollen. _

_"Sounds like a plan to me." She replied, getting up and tugging me to my feet._ _I kissed her deeply, before pulling her into the bedroom. Our clothes slowly began to fall, and as we crashed onto the bed, she whispered, "I love you, you know that, right Zane?" I grinned, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. _

_"I love you, Jo."_

I sighed, closing my eyes, and leaning forward, elbows on my knees. "That's not right, Jojo."


End file.
